


All The World In His Palm

by jemejem



Series: Andreil Week 2k19 [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andreil Week 2019, Avatar: The Last Airbender fusion, Edit: This got way more intense than intended, Im obsessed, M/M, Multi, blind! andrew, legend of korra AU, with her biceps, yes ik
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-06-24 10:16:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19721644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemejem/pseuds/jemejem
Summary: Kevin doesn't know who Neil Josten is, but his mentor Hernandez swears he's perfect for the Foxes, benders who fight crime in Palmetto city. He's a strong earth bender, who's in desperate need for some direction, Hernandez said.Little did they knew that Neil wasn't just an earth bender: Born of two fire benders under the Fire Nation's Moriyama regime, Mary stole Neil away as soon as he showed signs of his talents. She's never taught him what an avatar is, knowing that his father would find them if anyone ever found out. Knowing his father is on his tail and without his mother, Neil's running out of options. If he could master all elements, he'd be safer.Kevin Day, the last known air bender, could help him. Right?





	1. An Obviously Bad Decision

_years ago_

Metal weaved in and out of Andrew’s fingertips. In. Out. In. Out. A lattice across thick knuckles and calloused palms: His close friend, Renee, taught him to fight hand-to-hand combat, seeing as she had no bending abilities of his own. 

Yeah, he was a bender. Whatever. Didn’t mean shit to him: Bending had caused his family nothing but strife. 

A clock chimed somewhere within the city. Eight o’clock. He rubbed his hands together, almost wishing for a cigarette (Kevin would _kill_ him), as he stood to make his way down the cliff-side that overlooked Palmetto city. The land of union, with that hideously enormous structure of Kayleigh Day, the last Avatar, standing guard. What a fucking joke. 

He jumped from boulder to boulder till he’d touched ground again, feeling steadier but considerably more numb. Shoving fists into pockets, he began his walk home. 

A loud, enthusiastic cheering drew his attention: He would have ignored it otherwise, if the tone wasn’t so angry, so desperate. It also happened to be at Eden’s, a club in which Andrew was mildly intrigued about. It didn’t quite fit into Palmetto’s cookie-cutter image of perfection, which was perfect, as neither did Andrew. Its elusive purple lights and music that reverberated through the soles of his metal-capped boots enthralled him, beneath the constant throb of anger and numbness. 

He wasn’t an adult yet. Almost. Almost there. 

No guard stood outside checking ID. No passer-by was watching him with malicious intent or suspicion. He felt himself walking toward the entrance without his own consent. The handle was warm under his palm, and his entrance was entirely unnoticed. 

The crowd gathered could only be a few dozen. They crowded around a small podium, on which a young man stood. Andrew flushed: He couldn’t be more than three, four years older than Andrew was, holding a pint with his top buttons undone as he smiled. There was something off about his grin. Something sadistic. Some evil glint in his eye. 

Andrew felt the man’s gaze latch onto him. He rose his drink higher. 

“My name is Drake.” He said. “And together, we’ll bring these elitist benders to their knees.” 

Around him, the ground shook with ferocious boots on weakened floorboards. 

*

_now_

Neil Josten lit his cigarette with the spark at his fingertips: His mother hated benders, hated bending, and forbade him to use anything that might expose them, except always reserved the smallest of sparks for the tip of a cigarette. She was a fire-bender herself, but renounced herself from the kingdom. 

It was difficult for the wife of the Moriyama’s right-hand to vanish, with his heir in tow, but they’d managed. At the expense of everything they’d once had, and his mother’s life, he was alive. 

With a slow drag, he looked out over the barren landscape that was Millport. The only sound was the occasional freight train that rolled through, and the thwack of hoes against stiff peat. It was a miserable place that rained constantly and it’s residents were no cheerier than the clouded skies. The only person Neil had truly associated with was Hernandez, an earth-bender and recluse. Neil stumbled across him by chance, and he’d sworn to his mother that he would never bend again, but Hernandez’ easy-going smile and gorgeous clay sculptures were too enticing: Neil learned earth-fighting and crafting techniques under his careful eye, like Neil was just a farmer kid looking for a way out of the village. Like he wasn’t being hunted for. 

It was well overdue for his departure, having been in Millport for almost a year, and he was running out of options: He’d traversed most of the Earth Kingdom already: The North and South water tribes were too closely knit to pass by as a stranger. The Fire Nation was far too risky, and there was only one air-bending dynasty left. The Days. 

He ran his fingers through his hair, the fingertips coming away with charcoal dust: The hair paint he’d used a week ago was beginning to fade, coming away with every brush of his fingers. He wished there was something more permanent for his hair, and something to mask his eyes. He tried to keep himself concealed at all times, especially his scars. It was passible in Millport’s cooler climate, but not further south, where men often just wore bandages or gloves on their fore-arms, short trousers and leather shoes. 

“Alright, Neil?” 

Neil jolted, looking down to where Hernandez stood beneath his small cliff edge. The earth shuddered as he rose himself up to Neil’s level, taking a seat beside him. They looked out over the root farms, the drills that striped the low-lying hills. Millport farmers moved as specs, gathering food, replanting, hoeing away. 

“Fine.” Neil said, looking back to his cigarette. Hernandez frowned at it: It was far too damp to carry functioning matches, nor did Neil own a flint and steel. 

“Ready to leave?” He offered light-heartedly. Neil froze: Was he that easy to read? “I have someone who could help you get out of here.”

“What?” Neil choked out. “Who?” 

“No need for an introduction.” A new voice said, once again from below where Neil was perched. He didn’t make a move to come closer, so Neil and Hernandez peered down. 

He was a jarring culmination of all different cultures: The tanned skin of the water tribes, the flaming tattoos of the fire nation, the canvas clothing of the earth kingdom and closely cropped hair of the air temple. His arms were crossed as he stood with mild impatience. 

Neil’s heart hammered. He had no clue who this man was, but it didn’t matter: Strangers and familiars alike were dangerous. He shouldn’t have stayed this long. He shouldn’t have stayed this damn long. “What do you want?”

“To recruit you.” He said. “We’re a protection agency within Palmetto city. Your mentor wrote to me and suggested you’d excel.”

Neil’s mouth dried. _No._ In a weak attempt to dull his panic, he shook his head. “No thank you.” 

Both men were perplexed: Hernandez reached out for Neil’s shoulder, whilst his recruiter cocked an eyebrow. 

“You’d rather stay here, boy? Who are you so attached to?”

“My mother and father—“ He managed, feeling dizzy with fear. “They’re merchants. Travel a lot. Won’t be back in a while. Can’t just up and leave without telling them—“  
“So give it a few weeks.” He insisted. “No rush. I just need reliable recruits, and relatively soon. One of our earth benders is remarkably—unreliable, at times. It would be good for Kevin to try and make a different stone bleed.” His laugh was almost dry, but Neil was not laughing. 

“David Wymack.” He whispered. “The Palmetto Foxes.” 

“So you’ve heard of us.” He said wryly. “Not surprised, with the amount of crud that lot get up to. Shall we talk as we walk back to town, boy?”

“It’s Josten.” He snapped, fingers curling as he stumbled to his feet. His messenger bag weighed him down more than it ever had before. Kevin Day was trying to recruit him. Kevin and his merry band of do-gooders, after his abandonment of the Fire Nation and his adoptive brother, Riko Moriyama. “I—no. I can’t join. Sorry.” He skidded down his little cliff face, running down the dirt path he’d carved out of the thick shrubbery. The forests that surrounded Millport were wild and unknowable, but Neil knew the way to his look-out like the back of his hand. He was blinded by his panic, using earth bending to ensure even ground as he ran and to skip over ditches and precarious foot-bridges. 

He’d almost reached the road back to town when there was a glimmer of movement in his peripheral: Out of nowhere, a heavy metal cable looped around his ribs and yanked him to a stop: He collapsed, the air squeezed out of his lung. 

“Oops.” Came a grinning voice from above him. 

“Oh, damn you, Minyard. This is why we can’t have nice things!”

“Put a band-aid on him and he’ll be good as new,” The new man argued, and Neil didn’t have to look up to know who stood in front of him. The unstable metal bender within the Foxes, who was signed onto Palmetto protection despite his medications, past association with anti-bending extremists and almost murderer status.

“Fuck you.” Neil managed. The earth trembled beneath his fingertips as he rolled onto his back: It lifted him until he was sitting up once more, coughing as nails scratched into the dirt. 

“An earth bender.” Andrew crouched down in front of him with a vicious grin, eyes and unfocused. “How refreshing. Isn’t it, Kev’?” 

“He’s weak.” It was said with a derisive scoff, but it didn’t matter: Neil had already suspected Kevin would be here. Where Andrew went, Kevin followed. The last time Neil had seen him was when he’d been a green-eyed, wide-grinned boy, and they were play fighting. Kevin obliterated every pebble and stone Neil had chucked at him into a million smithereens, conjuring winds to carry them. He was more powerful than his mother. Neil followed both him and Riko, seeing as how they’d stayed in the spotlight, and they were the last tether to who Neil was. An innocent child. 

“Weak and unrefined.” Kevin continued, standing next to Andrew. “But he’ll do.”

“I wont train with you.” Neil spat through gritted teeth, clambering to his feet. “Leave me alone.”

“Sure.” Andrew laughed. “Right after we steal you for a quick evaluation. You might even live. ” 

“Andrew.” Wymack scolded. “Tone it down.” With a rough grip on his shoulder, Womack steeled his gaze onto Neil’s. “You should come to Palmetto for an evaluation, Neil.” 

“I can’t.” Neil said weakly. 

Wymack’s head jerked: Like clockwork, Kevin and Andrew trudged away, Andrew’s crazed eyes unable to focus on a single detail, whilst Kevin being unable to tear his eyes away from Neil. 

“Will your parents be a problem?” Wymack asked carefully. He hadn’t even gotten verbal consent from Neil, but Neil found his head nodding slowly. His mother would be ripping his skin from his muscle and bone, shredding him to pieces. 

Wymack wasn’t surprised. “You have a week to get yourself in order, and I’ll grab Hernandez a return ticket to escort you. Don’t hesitate to send a message if something comes up.” He gave Neil a gentle nudge towards the road, where he could now see Andrew and Kevin in a borrowed automobile. Gripping the straps of his messenger bag, he jogged in the opposite direction from the Palmetto Foxes, his past, and his future, the ground beneath his feet no steadier than the tumultuous state of his mind. 

*

Neil looked around the abandoned stadium in reserved awe. Much like the rest of Palmetto city, the aged architecture and freakishly modernised technology clashed, with vintage automobiles and clothing in combination with telephone connection and sleek aircraft that soared overhead. He’d never been to the uniting city and thought the statue commemorating Kayleigh Day was both majestic and excessive. The cobbled streets tripped him up, and his ragged looks had him looking akin to the homeless slum-walkers. 

He’d kept his head down. Cities were fantastic to disappear into, but there were too many points of contingency. Not to mention he was here for an evaluation, which was, in itself, a suicide scheme.

The glass dome over Palmetto’s bending stadium glittered in Palmetto’s midday sun: Neil walked into the centre of a seemingly small amphitheatre, knowing the masses of seating hidden behind drawn curtains. He was surprised his evaluation was in such a public space, when the Foxes were meant to be a sort of secret detail within the city. Maybe this wasn’t their main stronghold. 

Kevin slammed the door behind him, walking to the edge of his balcony before leaning precariously far over the edge. “You’re here to prove yourself. Are you ready?”

Neil was going to purposely sabotage himself. Not for spite. To keep himself safe. This would be the last time he ever bended. Training with Hernandez was a mistake, coming here was a mistake, everything about Neil’s decisions within the last year had been god-awful. 

He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth, and closed his eyes. It was only Kevin. And it didn’t matter if Kevin had plucked him out because he remembered him: He’d be gone in a half hour. 

He laid on the ground beneath him, staring at the ceiling. Slowly, he shaped spheres of rock from around him, raising them above his head. It was his favourite past time, obliterating the rock into granules of sand and whirling them in spirals above his head. 

His sand cloud was blown away: He scrambled off his back to see Andrew, stood at the edge of the platform. He was grinning, mouth split like a knife wound. 

“We’re not here for an art show.” And then he fired a metal spear at Neil. He threw up an earthen shield to dive behind, and then gathered rock shards to fire back. He couldn’t metal bend, but Andrew could do both: It was incredibly unfair. If Neil was stupid, he’d simply fire or water bend and throw Andrew off this stupid platform. He couldn’t risk that. Multi-faceted benders were too rare, too prized. He’d be put on a pedestal and his father would find him within this moment and the next. 

One thing was sure: the man had terrifyingly good aim for someone who was completely blind, and it didn't matter what Neil's father had in store for him if he was bested in this evaluation.

Neil deflected the metal shards best that he could as he tried to incapacitate Andrew somewhat: It was impossible. He was a legendary earth-bender, and Neil was an untrained runaway. He heard the man’s laughter echo mercilessly around the stadium, and grit his teeth. 

His intrinsic need to survive quelled the surge of power that ran through his bones, blasting from his fingertips. 

The ground split underneath him, growing to swallow Andrew whole. The man was too adept to fall for it, but it still took him a moment to scramble out of the ditch. He fired metal rods that wrapped themselves around Neil’s wrists and ankles, forcing him to stumble and fall to the ground. 

“Embarrassing.” Andrew’s cackle made Neil shudder. He created a metal platform underneath him, disconnecting him from the earth that he could have manipulated to escape. Neil was thwart. “I win.”

Neil felt his body go limp. He had exerted himself against Andrew: At least he failed his evaluation, and the Foxes would leave him alone. Andrew’s metal retreated, and he slowly dragged himself to his feet: Kevin had wound his way down to the stadium platform from the balcony. 

“That was abysmal. You’re an untrained neophyte.” He stood over Neil. “But I can work with it. Let’s head to the Tower.”

“What?” Neil startled. “No. I can’t.”

Kevin’s lip twitched. “You came all this way to fail? A door just opened. What’s stopping you from walking through it?”

Neil could list the reasons on one hand, but each of those risks were equally capable of cutting each of his fingers off. Even his mother. She always had her way. 

“It’s a bad idea.” He reasoned weakly. Andrew choked out a laugh, as Kevin’s glare narrowed. For a moment, Neil thought he’d recognised him, but he was merely scrutinising his slight figure. 

“Of course it’s a bad idea.” Kevin offered. “You’re practically a child. But like I said: You’re malleable. Passionate. Fighting like you’re on the edge of death. If that’s not someone we need on our team, then I’m a Rhenman traitor. You’re wasting valuable time.”

He swallowed. Bad hair stain and a new name weren’t enough to keep him concealed if he was going to step into the spotlight like this. He was weak, and he was undisciplined, though. Perhaps a few weeks of training with Kayleigh Day’s protege son would do him some good, even with the weighty risks. 

Neil’s feet carried him without command. 

He’d be fine. He’d only stay a little while. Just a few weeks. 

Then he’d be gone for good.

*

_Oh, how wrong he was._

*


	2. A Series of Undoubtedly Worse Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil wakes, trapped. He knew he should have run as far from Riko Moriyama as soon as he'd heard his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so 2k turned into 12k and im sorry this took so long but I kept wanting to change things and there were plotholes and non-chronological writing is hard as fuck lmao 
> 
> also yes andrew is blind now, and yes i went back and added stuff into the first chapter, but if you've already read that, yes, andrew's basically a male, older, gayer version of toph

He’d only woken up briefly, whilst in the back of what seemed to be a van. 

He was alone, still smelling like ash and bad decisions. His head lolled as the vehicle rounded a corner, and the pain in the back of his skull forced him to slip away from unconsciousness again.

*

“Nathaniel, Nathaniel, Nathaniel.” Riko crooned, pacing the room. 

Neil was tied to a chair in a metal box, the platinum stiff and unforgiving. Even if Neil could metal-bend, something that he had been attempting but progressing only slowly in, platinum was immune to even the best earth-bender’s touch. Even Andrew would have been thwarted in here, the fortress it was.

Neil was well and truly trapped.

“It’s Neil.” He managed, icily. 

Riko turned a sharp eye onto him. “You do not have the luxury of escaping your past like that, Nathaniel. I mean, really, what were you thinking?”

Neil struggled against his restraints, hoping anger would maybe fuel some sort of spurt of energy. He felt drained as it was, cut off from the elements and thus from himself.

He’d grown too used to bending. He’d gotten _weak_. 

“I have no reason to answer to you, Moriyama.” Neil returned. “Even less so, since you’re royalty in name only. You’re not even a fire-bender.”

A hand struck him across the cheek, snapping his head to one side. Riko bent down to lean into Neil’s space, snarling like a feral animal. 

“You are your father’s son,” He said. “And your father answers to my name. You _will_ obey me.”

Neil spat on him: An enormous, bloody glob landed on his cheek and slid off his jaw. “Fuck you.”

Riko wiped it off and simply smiled. Just like his father, Riko’s smiles were far more terrifying than his anger. “You’re going to make your own existence hell, aren’t you? Well, I’m more than happy to oblige.” 

Neil’s body contorted as Riko waved his fingers through the air. He threw his head back and grit his teeth, his body fruitlessly trying to escape the pain. 

Riko could blood-bend, without the strength of the full moon. Riko could take Neil’s powers away.

“Let’s review each and every one of your bad decisions, Nathaniel.” Riko dragged a finger across Neil’s jaw as he shuddered. “Remember the opening game of the pro-bending season?”

*

_May_

Neil hated this. Hated everything about every decision he’d made that’d lead him to this. Here he was, out in the open, with nothing more to disguise him than a brown stain in his hair and the pretence that he was just a shitty earth-bender. 

The Foxes were accompanying President Ferdinand to her viewing booth in the arena and insuring that nothing went haywire. 

The presidential elections were right around the corner, and animosity was high. Three major contenders were all equally supported, with flyers and banners sprawling out across the city to encourage the public to vote. Campaigning hadn’t even officially begun yet, but the polls were already active.

President Kathy Ferdinand was re-running. She’d set the city up with the last avatar, Kayleigh Day, and knew the city’s every nook and cranny. She was experienced. She was irritating, in Neil’s experience, having met with her briefly already, but she could somewhat run a city. 

Then there was Allison Reynolds. She was looking to put innovation and reformations into Palmetto city and had the ferocity of an untamed tiger. Neil hadn’t had a proper conversation with her yet, but she wasn’t someone to be messed with or underestimated because of her youth or inexperience. Neil’f had only one encounter with her thus far, and it was a confusing compilation of insults and ruffling his hair. 

Dan and Wymack had accompanied President Ferdinand inside, whilst Seth and Neil stood by Allison’s automobile: The other half of the Foxes lined the walkway between the carpool arrivals and the entrance to the stadium, arming the barricades that kept the press from tarnishing the red carpets. Neil was being photographed and he hated every moment of it. 

“Smile, sunshine.” Allison grinned. “You’re living the high life now, aren’t you?”

“He’s too short to even see it.” Seth muttered. Allison snorted, allowing him to hook his hand into the crook of her elbow. “I’ll escort you to your seat, Ms Reynolds.”

“That’d be lovely.” Allison’s cat-like grin over her shoulder unnerved Neil. His mother had always warned him of women. Never to trust them and their manicured nails. 

Neil was left stranded in the middle of a crowd as it began to gather, swelling up like a wave. Neil gazed over his shoulder to see who was in the middle of the commotion, but he already knew without glimpsing at the flags or the escorts. 

Riko Moriyama had arrived. 

Wymack snapped his fingers at Neil to shake him free of his horrified trance. “You, Andrew and Kevin should attend to inner rim security detail.”

Neil nodded vaguely.

“ _Now,_ Neil.”

Wymack shooed him away. 

The last time he had been to the stadium was his evaluation, but many things had changed since then: For one, he knew his way around the winding mess of maintenance halls and fire-escapes. The walls hadn’t shook with the ferocious clamouring of a riled-up audience, and there had been no guards to scrutinise his suspiciously small and wiry frame, until they saw the FOX pin across the lapel of his uniform. 

Kevin and Andrew had vanished and Neil had scoured every corner twice. There was no way Riko Moriyama could—or would—do anything at such a public event. His presence was merely intimidation, a reminder of things to come. 

Neil shuddered before pinching himself and forcing himself to concentrate. Kevin, Andrew, inner ring surveillance. Right. 

He shouldered his way into the Elks’ change rooms, where he knew Seth would be, talking to Matthew Boyd, his close friend and probending champion. All men turned to look at Neil upon his entrance but soon turned away to continue preparations. All but Matthew, and obviously, Seth. 

“Not busy kissing Kevin’s heels?” Seth sneered. 

“Are you Neil?” The pro-bender asked enthusiastically. “I’ve heard so much about you! Dan says—“

“Woah, woah, you’ve been talking to Dan?” Seth punched his shoulder. “That’s great, man!”

“Thanks,” He said sheepishly, before tearing on. “I’m Matt, by the way. I used to reconnaissance for the Foxes before I got signed to a bending team. Neat, right? I’m glad you’re with the Foxes: They’ll give you so many opportunities.”

“Have either of you seen Kevin or Andrew?” Neil insisted, only marginally guilty for blowing Matt’s conversation off. “Sorry, it’s just that Riko Moriyama is here and things could get out of hand quickly—“

Matt’s gaze darkened. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

So when Wymack had said Riko taking away Kevin’s air-bending was an open secret, he really meant _open_. “He’s trying to win a presidential election so the Fire Nation can reach out and snatch Palmetto city for themselves.”

“You won’t let it happen,” Matt said assuredly, clapping Seth on the shoulder. “Sorry, Neil, they haven’t been in here.”

Neil simply nodded and darted out with a quick goodbye. 

The stadium’s outer ring was a balcony, the golden balustrades looking out over Palmetto’s harbour and the enormous statue of Kayleigh Day, which dwarfed air-temple island. Neil grit his teeth, knowing perhaps it was an overreaction, they were probably fine, there was nothing to freak out about—

Someone barrelled into him whilst he jogged around in his lapsed focus sending both of them sprawling to the floor. “Watch it!” Neil hissed. The man scrambled to his feet, and Neil finally understood what he was looking at. 

He was dressed in all black, sleeves and trousers thick with weapon sheaths. Their collision had forced down his hood and dislodged the mask over his mouth and nose enough that Neil could see his grimace. He was injured, and he was clearly here to cause trouble. 

Before Neil could react, the tyrant glimpsed at his FOX pin, and drew out a gun, aiming it right at Neil. He didn’t really feel like taking apart the old building but he couldn’t dare use fire or water bending out in the open like this. 

Instead, he ripped a sandstone balustrade from where it fenced the balcony, chunking it into manageable pieces. 

“I’ll shoot!” The man said, furious. “I’ll fucking shoot you!”

“How do you suppose you’ll escape, then?” Neil questioned. “You’re not exactly in a good place to flee from a densely population building, and if you’re using a gun you’re clearly not a bender.”

The man snarled out something unintelligible, hand shaking where he grasped the firearm. 

If Neil died over some stupid thug, he would never forgive himself for it. 

Around the corner came Andrew and Kevin, skidding to a stop when they saw a gun being aimed at Neil. The man chucked them glance, swore softly under his breath, and redirected the gun. 

Kevin was in the middle of an aborted yell when the man pulled the trigger, firing a bullet straight into his skull. He collapsed onto the floor in a pile of brain and blood, and Neil’s nose twitched with disgust. 

“Dammit!” Kevin snapped. “That was all of them. We’ll never know who orchestrated this!”

“What do you mean?” Neil asked, crouching over the man to look under his sleeves and collar for any distinguishing marks or tattoos that might have given a clue as to his affiliation. 

“He was with four others, who all killed themselves just the same.” Kevin said sourly. “Whoever sent them knew this was a suicide mission but tried regardless.”

“We know exactly who it was.” Andrew cackled. “How about we spell out his name with their bodies?”

“If we go accusing people, it’ll be the end of us.” Kevin countered. “We can’t—we can’t do that, Andrew. It has to be subtle.”

“I think that’s subtle.” Andrew grinned, kicking the dead guy in the head. 

“I’ll go get coach.” Neil supplied awkwardly, putting back the railing he’d broken off to fight the guy. 

He walked instead of ran, trying to calm his racing heart. It didn’t matter: All he could see was a gun-powder frosted barrel, and the sickening tattoo of a number 1 over the flame birthmark across Riko’s cheek. 

*

Neil looked at the tattoo and wanted to retch. Kevin didn’t have the Moriyama-identifying scar, but the bastard son of Kengo Moriyama had gone and marked the last air-bender all the same. “I remember. You sent those men on a suicide mission.”

“Perhaps,” Riko smiled lazily. “You can’t know if one is loyal until they’re asked to choose between betrayal or death. It was hardly the main attraction of the evening, regardless. Quite the pro-bending game. I thought you and your merry band would have taken the opportunity to snatch Thea away from me in the chaos of the stadium, but much to my disappointment, you did no such thing. Instead, you trespassed onto private grounds masked like a bunch of thugs and incapacitated my guards, only to reveal yourself as the Avatar!” He spat out a derisive laugh. “Really, Nathaniel. What were you thinking?”

*

_Early July_

“We’re rescuing _who_ now?” Nicky yelped, looking between Andrew and Kevin. Even Aaron seemed on high alert, seeing as he couldn’t have given less of a fuck about any of this. 

“Faster.” Andrew told Nicky, who had no choice but to oblige. He gulped as he pressed down the accelerator, and the sound of the engine seemed to relax Andrew. 

Neil was sure that if Andrew could see, he’d be driving the thing himself.

“Thea Muldani.” Kevin repeated. “Riko’s acting secretary for the presidential elections, and a retired Fire Nation assassin. She’s pregnant.”

“Okay, fantastic.” Nicky claimed, letting go of the wheel briefly to was his hands in the air. “Is this sanctioned by Wymack at all? Will we have backup? Or are we just sneaking into the Ravens Hotel which is, mind you, private Fire Nation grounds! To rescue an _assassin_?”

“She’s retired, Nicky.” Aaron supplied, unhelpfully. “I’m sure this won’t get us killed.”

“Shut up.” Kevin snapped. 

Neil had no idea why he’d let himself be dragged along for this. He should have left when he’d had the chance. Now he was in a speeding car, hurtling towards his death. He could see it like one could see a cliffedge: Knowing it was there, knowing there was nothing beyond it, but unable to bring yourself to a stop in time to keep from tumbling over the edge. 

They parked in a small alleyway, two blocks away from the hotel, and sheltered in complete darkness. It wasn’t difficult to mount the buildings beside the hotel and climb onto the roof, but it was difficult to find an unprotected entrance. Every room was full and bustling with business, unsavoury and illegal and disturbing alike. As the representing embassy for the Fire Nation, Palmetto city rules didn’t apply here. Neil saw a young girl on a golden leash, shoulders shivering with suppressed sobs. He hated everything about the Fire Nation’s dictatorship and the Moriyama’s ruling, but he couldn't let the anger distract him.

Nicky had stayed with the car. Aaron was to stay by their exit. Neil was lighter, more nimble, and so he would scout, whilst Andrew caused chaos should the need arise. 

“This is a terrible plan.” Neil muttered as he pulled down his mask, lowering himself into the vent. Not a month ago did masked idiots attack the stadium, only to shoot themselves when things became impossible. And yet here Neil was, purposefully jeopardising his safety for some random pregnant woman. 

“I’m having a grand time,” Andrew followed him down with a grin. It was late enough in the evening that the effects of his drugs began to waver, seen in the twitching of his lips and the slight unsteadiness of his hands. He beckoned Neil to move forward. “Well? It’d be rude to force the blind man first, wouldn’t it?”

“It’s pitch-black anyway.” Neil argued, still clambering in first.

Unglamorous, Neil thought. Crawling on his elbows and knees through an air vent was remarkably unglamorous and had him nauseous with anxiety and regret. Nothing about the decisions that’d lead him here were a good idea, and now he was infiltrating territory that was as good as his father’s. 

_You’ve come this far,_ he reckoned with himself. He grit his teeth and kept crawling. 

When they found the empty room closest to Thea’s location, Andrew created a ladder of metal and shoved it through the grate. He went first—keeping true to his promise—and beckoned Neil down. 

“I don’t understand why you agreed to this whole thing.” Neil muttered, readjusting his mask. “It’s not like you’ve ever participated in anything Fox-related.”

“It’s a means to an end.” Andrew said. “I have a deal with Kevin. This is where it has lead me.”

The room was an unoccupied suite, the mattress bare and lights off. Andrew refused to let Neil in front of him as they left the room, walking briskly down an abandoned corridor. 

“We’re going to be killed on sight, looking like this.” Neil hissed. “What’s the plan?”

“Shut up and keep it that way.” Andrew grunted. In a small alcove, he knelt onto the ground. “Keep watch.” He placed his hands on the ground and closed his eyes, which was pretty useless. Neil could sense the slight vibrations through the wooden floorboards. When he stood, he seemed sure. “This way.”

The Beifong method, invented by a blind earth-bender, just like Andrew. Neil’d never seen someone use it before. He followed silently, basking in quiet awe. He knew Andrew was the best earth bender of his generation, but it was different to hear and see it. To master all the methods of Chief Beifong without any connection to her lineage was something inconceivable. But he’d done it. 

He’d probably figure out lava bending too, just to shove it in Kevin’s face. Neil wondered how someone so talented could give no thought to what encompassed his soul. 

Andrew shoved Neil into a wall behind a decorative pillar as two men rounded the corner. They passed by unknowingly, and they continued their path thirty seconds later. If they weren’t so recognisable, they would have gotten away with donning some security guard’s uniform and waltzing the corridors without suspicion. 

If someone so much as snatched either of their masks, it’d be known: The Foxes trespassed onto Raven territory and stole one of their executive members. The risk was too large to really swallow, so Neil suppressed his urge to choke and walked briskly on Andrew’s heels. 

“We have maybe half an hour until guests begin returning to their suites.” Neil offered. “There’s a performance that will finish in fifteen, and recreations usually finish at midnight. It’s now or never.”

“She’s in the presidential suite. There’s no way we’ll get in there.”  
“She has to know we’re coming, right? What good is a rescue mission if the person thinks they’re being kidnapped by thugs and kicks up a fuss.”

“She knows.” Andrew said darkly. “But Riko has her under extreme protective detail. She’s not allowed to leave the suite.”

“Brute force?” Neil offered. 

The last of Andrew’s medication made its appearance with the remnants of his feral grin. “Sounds like fun.” 

The corridors were empty, but not empty enough that their presence went unnoticed. They ran anyway, faster than they could be comprehended, until they found the suite they were looking for. Four guards surrounded the door with hands clasped in front and chins held high. 

Andrew wrapped their wrists with metal shards from his arm sheaths, knocking their skulls together with ease. Neil shoved the door open and Andrew threw the unconscious guards inside, slamming the door shut behind them. 

“Oh, my!” A suited man exclaimed, mouth twisting into a snarl. “How dare you—do you know the master of this room?”

He and Thea sat at a small table, where he sharpened knives as she sat, seemingly bored out of her skull, drawing in the air with flames from the tip of her finger. 

“Unfortunately.” Neil drawled before he could shut his mouth. 

“I was getting bored, waiting for something to happen.” Thea muttered, standing. 

Andrew gave Neil a pointed glare. _Take care of the guy._ Neil nodded, feeling the sandstone of the old hotel’s walls shudder: He grabbed a brick and chucked it at the guy’s head before he could fling the knife at him. His body collapsed, and Neil shoved him along with the other men, securing him with rope. Andrew, meanwhile, had escorted Thea to the balcony. 

It overlooked Palmetto city harbour. The Raven Hotel was situated right beside a boardwalk, a jetty for hotel attendants and guests merely a hundred metres away. Waves lapped gently at the stone columns beneath the jetty, and moonlight glittered across their crests. 

“…like hell I am!” Thea snapped. “I’m pregnant: I can’t jump from cliff-ledge to cliff-ledge, and I won’t abseil down the side of a building, either!”

Andrew rubbed his temples: The door of the suite shuddered as reinforcements pounded angry fists upon it. The men they’d already incapacitated were beginning to stir, and would easily zap themselves out of the cuffs they were in. 

“Andrew,” Neil warned.

The door burst inwards: Guards wielding fire rushed forward, cutting off all viable exits. 

“Step away from her!” One bellowed. “We wont hesitate!”

“Andrew,” Neil said. “Get the others and meet at the car.”

Andrew merely looked up at him. It was too late: He’d already made his decision, and the harbour water was reaching up towards him.

As a fire-bender, water-bending was the discipline most foreign to him. He’d managed it on occasion, when his mother had beaten him to hell and back for being unable to draw water out of a cactus when they’d been wandering the desert. Desperation — whilst unsustainable — seemed to be the key for him. 

He grit his teeth and leapt off the balcony.

Thea screamed as the water snatched her up in its fist. Neil urged it to be careful with her and launched himself off the balcony to follow: The ocean swallowed him easily and he found Thea again, creating a small pocket of air around them. Fire rained onto the ocean’s surface but couldn’t penetrate, dissipating where it met the water. 

Thea choked out wet gasps, pushing soggy hair away from her eyes. It was dark at the bottom of the harbour, so Neil lit a small fire in his palm and removed all remnants of water from Thea’s hair and clothes. 

She looked at him in thinly veiled horror. “You—you’re supposed to be an earth bender.”

Neil grit his teeth. “I exposed myself for you. You owe me.” 

“Right.” She said. Her uneasiness was difficult to pin down, seeing as she was a stoic wall of muscle and tanned skin, but Neil could see the shaking hidden by curled fists. “I owe the Avatar. Fantastic.”

Neil blinked. “The Avatar? I’m not the Avatar.”

She looked at him. “The Avatar is the only bender who can master more than one element. What do you mean, you’re not the Avatar?” She looked pointedly at the flame in his palm as she gestured to the air pocket they were within, on the ocean floor. “Are you _serious_?”

“I was told that multi-benders existed.” Neil said, weakly. “They were rare, but they existed.”

“Were you risen in the confinements of a cave, or are you naturally this stupid?” Thea scoffed. “One Avatar per generation: Kayleigh day passed away eighteen years ago. How old are you?”

“Eighteen.” Neil whispered. 

“The cycle always repeats.” Thea acknowledged with a hum. “They thought the cycle had stopped, seeing as Kayleigh’s sacrifice was in the midst of her Avatar state, but here you are.”

He said nothing. It was something that was too enormous to digest like this, in their predicament. They needed to get back to safety. They needed to escape unseen. Neil walked them to the edge of the harbour, clambering into a drainage pipe and keeping the air pocket around them until they found a ladder. The manhole opened up onto a street, perhaps a block away from the Ravens hotel. Police sirens screamed bloody murder in the distance. Neil hadn’t even paused to think about whether or not Andrew and the others escaped, but there was nothing he could do but return to where Nicky waited with the car. 

“You did it!” He crowed. “I knew you could. Ms Muldani, I’m Nicky Hemmick, chauffeur extraordinaire. How’s the baby?”

“Just peachy,” She grouched. “Seeing as I was just forced across the bottom of the harbour and through storm drains to be here.”

Nicky’s smile faltered. “What?”

“Nicky, engine on.” Neil saw three figures running towards them, clambering into the front. “We need to get out of here, _now.”_

Andrew shoved into the front seat, cramming himself beside Neil. Aaron and Kevin loaded into the back, and Neil glimpsed into the rear-view mirror to see Kevin grasping Thea’s face between his hands. Aaron prodded and coerced answers out of the woman, checking for bruises or scrapes. 

“Don’t tell.” Neil whispered, almost pleading.

“I won’t lie on your behalf.” Andrew said, gazing out the window. “Where the Avatar treads, notoriety will follow. You’ll be gone by morning, I suspect. Rabbit.” He sneered. “Although I suspect it may be too late for that.”

“It’s death either way.” Neil agreed. “I’m tired of being nothing.”

“You’ll always be nothing.” He said, settling into where he sat and gazing listlessly ahead. Neil sighed under his breath, curling into himself. 

The Avatar. 

Impossible. He closed his eyes and removed himself from the idea that it was a possibility, curling his fingers into fists tight enough to draw blood between his nails and palms. 

_Impossible_.

*

“You thought you could fool us.” Riko drew up a chair and sat, interlocking his fingers together between his knees. “But Thea’s escort had witnessed you earth-bending, clear as day. Imagine my surprise when I found my soldiers arguing over your capabilities. You had taken a solid chunk of the wall. No, you escaped into the water and didn’t resurface. It was your blind, blond-haired mutt doing the earth work. No, he had been aiding Thea’s escape whilst you dealt with the escort.”

“It was evident,” Riko continued. “That the Avatar had returned. According to your description, you seemed around the right age, regardless of your lacking frame.”

Like Riko could talk. Neil struggled against his restraints, but they were too cautious. Platinum upon every surface made the cuffs and chair cold and unforgiving. Even if Neil was a proficient metal bender, he’d be trapped.  
There was nothing within the room he could draw water from. No earth he could move. And he was most certainly restrained too well to conjure fire. 

He was fucked. 

“Imagine my delight when someone told me of your eyes!” Riko leaned closer. “Like blue fire, they said. Like shards of ice.”

“People have blue eyes.” Neil said defensively. 

“Perhaps. But there are not many short, marred, bright blue-eyed young men with multi-bending capabilities, are there? In fact, I assume there’s only one. _You_.”

Neil’s struggles were useless: He slumped in his chair and cast his eyes to the ground. “But you still didn’t know it’d been the Foxes.” 

“No,” Riko agreed. “I did not know. But the presidential campaign put us in close enough quarters that it was inevitable I’d find you, Avatar Nathaniel.”

*  
_Late July_

“Do you want me to bow down and kiss your feet, Avatar?” Andrew leaned back on his hands, legs swinging over the roof’s ledge. A cigarette sagged from his lips as he looked up at the sky, fogged golden gaze unfocused as ever. 

Neil sat down beside him, curling into a small ball to be contrary. “I don’t even know what that means. Why would I be the Avatar?”

“I won’t put up with a pity show, Josten.” He glanced at Neil. “Nothing that you’ve told me is honest. Nothing you’ve told me is trustworthy. Your name, the colour of your hair, your story. Yes, Nicky told me about the hair-stain. The Avatar might as well still be dead with how little of you truly exists.”

It grated on Neil’s skin. It was unbearable. He curled his arms around himself and spoke in a deathly-quiet whisper. 

“Call me Abram.”

Andrew could sense his honesty and hummed appreciatively. “Avatar Abram.” His smirk was leering. “Has a nice ring to it.”

*

“My name is _Neil_.” 

“You grew too attached to that name. Just like you grew too attached to those Foxes.”

Neil knew that. He grit his teeth in an attempt to not let Riko’s scathing words matter. He’d stayed, and he’d fought, and he’d learned who he was, and what kindness: That was more than enough.

 _It has to be enough_. 

Neil bit his lip, and let the memory waft closer. 

*  
_Early August_

“Kevin, listen to me,” Neil called, in their native Fire Nation dialect. Kevin turned immediately, knowing who it was: Neil exposed he was capable of speaking with Kevin in secret because of his time in the Fire Nation’s colonies. Neil _had_ lived a while in the colonies whilst on the run, but he’d been risen speaking its formal tongue. 

They were stood atop of the Tower. From here the entirety of Palmetto was visible to the naked eye, from the pro-bending arena and the Raven hotel by the harbour, to the presidential manor on the cliffside. If all went to plan, it would be either Allison or Ferdinand stationed there, and Riko would be forced out of the city. 

Neil was excited for his departure. It was terrifying having to escort someone so close to his father—perhaps not emotionally, but status wise. Riko was almost superior to Wesninski: That alone should have sent Neil running. 

And yet, here he was.

“I don’t need your pointless wingeing.” Kevin said, fists together and eyes closed as he meditated. For a boy born to become an air-nomad, he was hilariously bad at concentrating on his meditating. Andrew wound him up endlessly for it. “Go away.”

“I know you’re worried, Kevin.” Neil stepped up to where he sat, settling behind him. “But it will be fine.”

“How?” Kevin demanded angrily as he opened his eyes, curling his fists tighter. “He took my bending, my strongest defence, the last connection to my mother, the last Avatar—and now the fate of the air-bending culture rests on my daughter’s shoulders!” Kevin shook with anger. “What father am I, to force that onto her?”

“Was it not forced onto you?” Neil nudged him. “You’ve managed, and Leigh will too. Kevin, Riko will not confront you. We are safe, and you are staying with us in Palmetto.”

“You can’t know that.” He said bitterly. “He overpowers us, two to one. He can—and always does—do as he pleases.”

“We are stronger than him.” 

Kevin laughed. “Maybe if I had my bending. Maybe if Matt’s stupid pro-bending coach would let him out of his contract and quit exploiting him. Maybe if Andrew participated every once in a while. Maybe if the Avatar wasn’t fucking dead—maybe then we’d be stronger than him.”

Neil stilled. He squeezed his eyes shut, _knowing_ that to expose himself was signing his own death certificate, but perhaps living was meant to be more than surviving. He was the Avatar, wasn’t he? It was his duty to—well, fuck if Neil knew. He’d never received Avatar training in his life. 

Neil put his elbows to his knees and rested his chin on his intertwined fingers. “A lot of children came and went via the Moriyama fire-bending academy that you attended, Kevin.” Neil looked at him, knowing he’d caught Kevin’s attention. “Didn’t they?”

“Yes,” Kevin snapped. “So?”

“Remember that one boy? I think you know the one I’m talking about.”

Kevin slowly turned to look at him. 

“He was there for a day but never came back. Not without sharing his biggest secret, though. The Avatar was alive.”

“How do you—“ Kevin choked out. 

“Of course, the boy assumed that it wasn’t out of the ordinary to bend more than one element: It was just forbidden, according to his mother’s verdict. You blame yourself for him being killed: He wanted to trust you, and he showed you his capabilities, and he was killed for it.”

Kevin threw himself from the ground, stumbling close to the edge of the roof. His hands shook as he held them out, as though he was going to air-bend. Neil looked back to his hands, clenched into fists. 

“Who are you, truly?” Kevin snapped. “You’re a mole. A spy. You work for _him_. Andrew can tell truth from lie, so how has he allowed you up here with me?”

“Because we already spoke.” Neil said, calmly. “I earned his trust when we rescued Thea and your daughter.”

“Who are you?” Kevin whispered. 

Neil stood up, holding a flame in one hand and a sphere of water from a near-by puddle in the other. He bowed his head. “I’m sorry you thought I was dead. I’m sorry you thought that it was your fault. My mother stole me away before I could get myself into anymore trouble. I came back, hoping you’d remember me, hoping you wouldn’t.”

“Where’s your mother?” Kevin demanded. “She wouldn’t never have allowed this.”

“She’s dead.” Neil grit out. “Killed on the shores of Kyoshi island and fed to the Unagi.”

“Avatar Nathaniel.” Kevin whispered. “Is it really you?”

Neil turned away. “Whatever Riko is planning, I will help you keep peace. Palmetto is the centre for balance: It should be a place of harmony for all cultures and benders alike. If he’s trying to ruin that, I’ll help. It’s the least I can do.”

“Before _he_ kills you.” Kevin stood straighter. “Your father will find you, Neil—“ 

“I know.” Neil snapped. Looking out over the city’s horizons once more, he felt something ache in his chest. “I know.” 

Kevin came to stand beside him. “The cycle will begin again.”

“I’m on bought time,” Neil agreed. “It should have been your daughter. An air-bender is next in line.”

“Until then, I’ll teach you.” Kevin assured. “I can’t show, but I can tell. It’s enough. It has to be enough.”

“Every night?”

“Every night.” He turned and bowed low. Neil’s stomach tied itself into knots. “Avatar Neil.”

*

“Wake up.” Riko snapped, yanking Neil’s head up with his hair. He blinked blearily at the harsh strip-light that ran across the ceiling. Had he fallen asleep? What time was it? How long had it been since he’d eaten? He could not remember, and he was disoriented. He remained in the stupidly small platinum cell, Riko leaning over his chair with a menacing grin. “Where did you go?”

Neil wasn’t sure. Perhaps he’d slipped into the spirit world. It was unlikely: He’d never managed to go there unless it was deadly quiet and peaceful. This cell, whilst isolated, was neither of those things. He simply shook his head, so Riko let go of him and paced across to the other side of the cell. 

He looked over his shoulder with a private smile. 

“Do you remember the night of the voting polls?”  
“Yes,” Neil snapped. “The vote that you rigged. The presidential election you had no right to win.”

“The night you fucked up.” Riko crouched down in front of Neil, lowering his voice to a whisper. “The night that my brother was to attack the city, and claim it for himself. You were on the cusp of stopping him before too much damage to your precious Palmetto was dealt, but you pulled back. You were _weak_.” 

“I’m sorry I’m not a cold-blooded killer.” Neil snarled. “You should be glad I spared your brother’s life.”

“Rather, you sacrificed one of your own Foxes. What was his name? Right, of course. Seth.” 

Neil closed his eyes, shuddering with a wave of guilt. Allison hadn’t looked at him for weeks afterwards. 

“That’s right,” Riko crooned. “You’re no cold-blooded killer. You’re a fool.”

*  
_September_

“I’m ready!” Allison trilled. She was steady, despite her third glass of champagne half empty in her hand and the monstrous heels that made her giraffe-like legs seem even gaudier. “Let’s win this _feral_ election.”

“Brace yourself.” Renee warned. Allison waved her off with a clumsy finger pressed to Renee’s lips. An arm offered itself to Allison to steady her as Seth sidled up, letting her be guided by both arms. They were all dressed finely as they were accompanying the campaigner inside the auditorium for the results of months of hard work. 

The other Foxes were not as primly suited, since they were being stationed around the auditorium as security. Kevin and Andrew had already been tasked to settling the current president in, and so it was just Neil, Aaron and Nicky, standing to attention. 

Nicky sighed forlornly. “I’m bored.”

“Shut up, Nicky.” Aaron grouched, keeping a keen eye. 

“Why do we never get to schmooze up with people? I bet you that Seth is canoodling with all those rich, entitled folk.” Nicky grinned. “With all their heavy jewels and shrimp cocktails.”

“Exactly. You’re here because you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” Aaron warned. “Neil’s here because he can’t keep his fat mouth shut. And I’m here on babysitting duty.” He truly was a grump sometimes. All the time, really. 

Neil wasn’t that bad. He’d only bad-mouthed the Moriyamas to a dozen odd socialites last time he’d gone as Allison’s protective detail. Allison had loved it, but Wymack had banged his head against his desk for half an hour when the others relayed Neil’s blunt honesty. 

Nicky whistled lowly. “I thought Dan had the night off?”

“Hey, boys.” Dan called, drifting over from the stream of attendees that were entering the auditorium. “How’s duty?”

“You took the night off to be Matthew Boyd’s eye-candy?” Nicky cried, looking over Matt appreciatively. “No fair!”

“Are you kidding?” Matt laughed. “I’m _her_ eye-candy.”

“We’re doing much needed reparations to our public image.” Dan drawled. “We’ve had a few incidences, and I, as the superior, need to patch things over. Remember the priceless vase artefact you broke, Aaron?”

“It wasn’t my fault.” Aaron muttered. 

“And the time you busted through a woman’s window, Nicky, except you’d spooked her whilst she was naked in the bath?”

“I said I was sorry!” Nicky claimed. 

“And Neil—“ Dan just looked tired. “I’d rather not mention it. But you know what you’ve done.”

Neil shrugged.

“We should head in.” Matt insisted. “I want to find the others.”

They walked away, bickering over platitudes whilst Neil refocused. It was hard not to begin catastrophising: If Riko won, they’d see enormous Fire-Nation flags unravel over the existing Palmetto symbol. Everywhere they’d turn would be red and bloodied. The Foxes would be disbanded, and the best Neil could hope for was safe exit from the city so he could disappear somewhere remote. 

The Southern water tribe would suit well: He’d gotten better at the art as time had gone on, and it’d helped with Abby’s guidance. Whilst she was more of a healer, she was good with secrets, and proficient enough to teach Neil the basics. 

“Neil,” Andrew called out. “Babysit Kevin.” The taller man was shoved in Neil’s direction, stumbling slightly as he glared over his shoulder at Andrew. Neil rolled his eyes and dragged Kevin by his wrist. 

“What’s Andrew’s problem?” Neil asked. 

“Everything, it seems.” Kevin muttered. “Wymack needed him for something.”

“Let’s go up.” Neil offered. “Hold on.” Kevin wasn’t scared of being launched through the air: Neil shoved them up with the ground under his feet, and they were tossed onto the auditorium’s ceiling.

“Nothing out of the ordinary up here.” Kevin said. “Nicky and Aaron still on perimeter?”

“Kevin,” Neil said slowly. “What’s that?” 

Neil and Kevin gazed out over Palmetto’s harbour. Cargo ships were constantly being pulled in and out, but everything was still with the presidential election coming to fruition that night. 

Everything but a steel tanker, headed straight towards the statue of Kayleigh Day. 

“I’m sure it’s just some rich vacationer.” Kevin said uneasily as it drew closer. “We should focus on the task at hand.”

Neil could see no flags, no symbols of allegiance on the ship’s bow. He nodded reluctantly, and they slowly worked their way from from the roof to the street. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. 

When it was time for the announcement, the Foxes regathered. 

“Station yourself at your vantage points.” Kevin insisted. “Closest to each of your elements, just like we’ve planned out. Keep a sharp eye for any trouble-makers who don’t like the decision that has been reached.”

They disbanded: Neil climbed his way up to a small ledge that might have once been box-seats in the auditorium but instead opened up to a small, inaccessible balcony. It might have been lovely, on a quiet night, the chill of a southerly bluster and the curl of a cigarette’s smoke softening Neil’s harsh edges and worries. 

He saw the ship. It was drawing closer, and forefront what looked like a dastardly storm. It sent shivers down Neil’s spine, but he saw nothing he could draw an alarm for: The police would undoubtedly intercept the ship when it arrived at the docs. It was nothing Neil had to be concerned over. 

He focused himself on the room. The three candidates sat at neighbourly tables, looking up to the stage. 

“It has been a long campaign!” The announcer insisted. “But these three individuals have shown Palmetto city images of the future. Who have your citizens voted for? Stability? Innovation? Or reformation?”

Neil glanced back to the ship. It was veering around Kayleigh’s island but had come to a stop. The glimmer of a small lamp light was evident as people disembarked from the tanker, either onto the island or onto a smaller boat. 

He grit his teeth. He needed to _focus_. 

“Mrs Kathy Ferdinand, our current president, please come to the stage and provide your address to the citizens of Palmetto.” 

Ferdinand bowed when she had arrived at the stand, taking care of the microphone. Her smile was warm but knowing. “As much as I have enjoyed these campaigns for leadership, I have never forgotten the true purpose of these elections. We must present ourselves in our truest forms, so that the public may elect the person who represents them most appropriately.”

The little boat was drawing close enough to shore that Neil thought he could distinguish the men on board. It was too dark to recognise colour, but Kevin must have been right: One was dressed elaborately, expensively. It couldn’t be anything dangerous. They couldn’t afford to worry about it: The Foxes were spread too thin as it was.

“It’s the definition of democracy, and it is the principles of democracy, balance and freedom that Kayleigh Day and I built this city’s foundations upon.”

The boat docked, merely 100 metres away from the auditorium. The jetty was private, but the group was greeted by the dock-keeper, who allowed them their passage and strung up their boat.

Neil couldn’t stop his foot from tapping. He looked for Kevin, who was on the floor by the exit. Andrew was with him. Wymack stood by the stage. Dan was lost in the crowd. The closest to him was—

“Seth,” Neil hissed. “ _Seth_.”

“What do you want?” Seth muttered. 

“There’s a suspicious boat, docking too close to here for my liking.”

“And you need someone to babysit you, because every time you disappear out of nowhere, they all throw a hissy-fit.” Seth drawled. “Fucking hell, you stupid midget. Let’s go check it out.” He eyed Ferdinand distastefully. “We’ll probably be back in time for the announcement of the new President. She talks like a broken record.”

Neil resisted the urge to roll his eyes and they clambered down from their posts. There was a sudden uncomfortable warmth to the air. Everything was quiet and still as they ran.

The jetty-keeper was just locking his gates when they’d arrived. He eyed the pins on their uniforms and sneered. “Foxes. What do you want?”

“Who did you allow into Palmetto city?” Neil demanded. “All arrivals must go through customs. No exceptions.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, boy.” The man sneered. “I was just checking that no one went and messed with my dock.” He sauntered off, whistling with his hands in his considerably bulky pockets.

“I hate everyone.” Seth muttered as they walked away. “How stupid did the man think we were? You could still smell engine fuel from that carrier.”  
“They must be heading for the auditorium. It’s the only place to go right now.” They picked back up into a jog until they’d arrived at the front doors once more.

The guards were missing, and the foyer was empty aside for a stray member of staff.

“Odd,” Seth remarked. “No guards. Nothing.”

Neil restrained his urge to roll his eyes and snap _obviously_ at him, but Seth was oddly cooperative and Neil couldn’t afford Seth to switch back to ‘I’m going to hate and inconvenience Neil Josten because he exists’ act. 

“Don’t move, Foxes.” The voice was cold. Smooth. Neil couldn’t pin it on the spot, but he knew it wasn’t necessary. That brand of arrogance and bitterness could only belong to one family. “I have you surrounded.”

Men moved out from behind decorative columns, indeed trapping Neil and Seth in a circle.

Slowly, Neil turned around. 

The way he was dressed was deceptively simple. A red silk robe was wound around his waist, hemmed with golden embroidery. The sleeves bunched around his elbows, where he had his hands held up, fingertips barely touching. His trousers and blouse were the colour of dried blood. The only thing incriminating was the golden head-piece, placed in the black silken hair. 

It was the Fire Lord. 

“I thought he was old,” Seth whispered. 

The man smiled, slow and long. “My father is dead. You may call me Lord Ichirou.”

“What is your business here, Lord Ichirou?” Neil asked. “Your brother is running for president. The results are being announced.”

“I’m well aware,” Ichirou said calmly. “But it is not the election I am interested. We have already surmounted that obstacle. I hope you don’t mind,” His lips twitched. “But I must have you dispatched. Guards, please.”

Neil dodged the flames that licked the carpet beneath his feet, jumping and reaching out to grab the Fire Lord’s robes, but he slipped from between Neil’s fingers. 

“Hold them off!” Neil yelled. “I’ll find the others!”

“Wow, thanks!” Seth snapped, flicking electricity towards his assailants. Neil hurried after the Fire Lord who ascended a spiral staircase that lead to the box offices. He skipped past them in favour of leading Neil to an empty corridor. 

Ichirou turned to face Neil, smiling. They were alone. 

“Why are you here?” Neil demanded. “What do you want?”

“Palmetto city lies in the centre of all the nations.” He replied easily. “It _will_ be mine. The Moriyama destiny does not end at the conquering of the Fire Nation provinces.”

Neil’s blood ran cold and threw his hands up, encasing the Fire Lord’s arms and legs in stone. This was the man Neil’s father answered to. Was he here? Did he know? 

He couldn’t have Ichirou tell his father what he’d seen. He couldn’t risk anyone knowing where he was, who he was, and most definitely _what_ he was. Earth encased the man’s body, creeping up to his neck. Neil’s hand shook as he looked at the fear, creeping into the man’s eyes as stone circulated his neck, but—

No. It was suicide, killing the Fire Lord. Neil couldn’t believe he’d even considered it and stumbled back with a gasp. 

“Neil!” Seth barked. “What the fuck—Look out!” 

The Fire Lord’s restraints were obliterated by heat produced from the man’s palms: He leapt up with a ferocious snarl and flung his hands towards Neil. 

It was too late. Seth had already dived in front of Neil’s body, fire piercing through his chest like a bullet. He collapsed to the floor. 

Neil looked up to where Ichirou stood, wild-eyed and furious. The man had vanished in an explosion of smoke, which dissipated and left nothing but an acidic scent of sulfur. He knelt down, but Seth was already dead, glassy-eyed with an enormous cavity over his left lung. Neil choked on the scent of burning flesh — it reminded him of his mother — and stumbled away. 

Scarily, the auditorium’s audience hadn’t heard anything from what’d happened outside. Neil snuck in, easily avoiding commotion: The new president was about to be announced. 

“Neil,” Kevin hissed from where he was posted by the door. “What are you doing?”

“Lord Ichirou,” He choked out. “Snuck in. Threatened to take the city. Vanished. Seth, dead.”

Kevin’s eye twitched. _“What?”_

“Please welcome our new president to the stage: Riko Moriyama!” 

Neil and Kevin gazed toward the podium as Riko clambered onto the sage, smiling and waving as the crowd applauded him. 

“Oh, fuck.” Kevin whispered. 

*

“Your brother didn’t trust you to look after Palmetto city on your own.” Neil sneered. “He came and created a dictatorship, and used you as his puppet. Didn’t you see that?”

“My brother is the rightful ruler of all the nations.” Riko disputed. “The Fire Nation is superior: This must be shared with everyone, beginning and ending with Palmetto city.” 

“No one wants your violence and anger.” Neil snapped. 

“Don’t forget, Nathaniel.” Riko smiled. “It is your violence and anger too. Fire Nation born, Fire Nation bred. You are your father’s son, after all.” 

* 

_Early November_

All around him, the resistance efforts were collapsing. The dead were strewn like dismembered and disfigured children’s toys, blood seeping into the drains and gutters. 

It was horrific.

After broadcasting the announcer’s confession that Riko had bribed him into changing the results of the presidential campaigns, the streets filled with angered Palmetto citizens, calling for impeachment. Allison headed them, holding a photo of Seth, a candle and mascara-smudged tears. 

Before Riko could be physically removed from his position - a figurehead for his brother - the Fire Nation’s soldiers had to be combatted and defeated. Whilst the Fire Nation were strong, well-fed and high spirited, the people of Palmetto city were starving, freezing to death, and desperate. It was oddly well matched, but Palmetto couldn’t last for long.

Neil felt sick, watching the marching crowd drop, one by one. The Foxes were in their midst somewhere, trying to make a difference and restore balance and peace. 

But wasn’t that Neil’s job? 

“Get off me!” someone screamed. Neil jerked upright, looking to see Allison struggling against two uniformed men. The picture of Seth had dropped and shattered under their boots, and the candle had gone out, wax smeared across her skin. “Fuck off, you pieces of shit. Get _off_ me—! _Ow!_ ” 

Flames had slashed across her shoulder: Neil’s vision was splotched with black as he saw the red welt grow and pulsate across her skin, clothes torn and dirty. She continued to fight but looked to Neil with fear and anger as she was dragged off her feet. 

_I’m sorry, Mom._

Neil fell to his knees, the odd sensation of his skin being pulled too tight being matched with a faint, white glow around the peripherals of his vision. He’d never felt stronger, despite hiding out with the Foxes for weeks without sunlight and reliable food sources, and working himself to the bone with Kevin to master air-bending. 

_Help them._ The voice was not of his mother’s, but of Kayleigh Day’s. His previous reincarnation. His previous life. 

He stood and the street cleared for him. 

“The Avatar!”

“Who is it?”

“The Avatar is back!”

“He’s back!” 

“He’s here to save us!”

“Look, the Avatar! Look!” 

If only his father could see him now, swatting Fire Nation soldiers with the flick of his wrist. He continued without contest, the flames that they threw at his skin and the weapons that carved at his limbs unable to touch him. 

“Let go of her!” Neil yelled, splitting the ground where the guards attempted to drag Allison away. “I said: _Let go of her!_ ”

Beneath him, the ground shook, fissures appearing and spreading too fast for the soldiers to escape. Neil wanted the ground to swallow them, to crush them and hear bones snap, to make them feel as trapped as he knew they made the citizens of Palmetto feel—

“Neil,” said a calm voice. “That’s enough.”

“No.” He insisted. It wasn’t enough. He wanted them to _suffer_.

Andrew stepped into his field of vision. “You’ve done what you need to, Abram.” 

The transcendent, intangible fury that burned in his chest flickered until it was blown out, wisps of smoke curling into the air before disappearing. His body felt weak and feeble once more, incoherent movements and sensations enveloping him.

The last thing he could remember seeing was careful hands reaching to catch him as he collapsed to the ground.

*

“Why haven’t you given me to him yet?” Neil croaked, after being beat for another half hour by two masked men whilst Riko watched on from a shadowed corner. “It makes no sense.”

“Your father doesn’t know about you. My hidden Avatar.” Riko settled himself onto his chair again, relaxed. He should not have been relaxed: Keeping something from a Wesninski man was inadvisable, even if you were a Moriyama. “Besides, I am above him. He can’t tell me what to do.”

“You’re not Kengo’s biological child.” Neil said quietly. “You’re a bastard water-bender. An embarrassment to your father, and your brother alike. My father is eons above you in status and worth. You’ll get yourself killed playing games like this.”

Riko’s entire body began quivering with anger.

“I suppose you’re stuck now, aren’t you? I’ve got bruises and scars that show I’ve been here for a while. The reports of the battle between the Avatar and the Fire Nation occupiers are old news now. He’ll know you kept me for yourself, and he’ll scalp you, inch by inch.”

“You know nothing!” Riko roared. “Your father answers to the Moriyamas! He answers to _me_!”

Neil shook his head. “You’re disillusioned, Riko. You’re suicidal.”

“And you’re a dead man walking.” Riko choked out a laugh. “Speaking of, how’s your feral whore? A fugitive now, I hear. I wonder if he cares you’re here, or if he’s moved on already.” 

*

_Late November_

“Who are you?” Neil hedged. 

The man tucked his hands into his pockets, smiling slowly. It send a sickening twist to his stomach, reminding Neil of his father’s feral grin. “No one. Just visiting an old friend.” 

As far as Neil was aware, the farm housed Nicky’s parents. They’d made the trip for the weekend and would return in the early morning. Neil had been out for a jog to clear his mind, rather than staying inside and letting his anger fester. The way Nicky’s parents treated him was foul, and he hated being reminded of shitty parents. He was too well-versed in that area of concern. 

Neil stepped back warily, allowing the man inside. He was well dressed but considerably rugged, his beard badly kept.

The longer Neil followed him, the more unsettled he became. 

The man waited on the porch, gesturing for Neil to continue inside. “I’ll wait outside.”

“There’s someone here,” Neil said upon reentrance to the kitchen. “I didn’t get his name.”

“Ah,” Luther allowed. “That’ll be for Andrew.” He disappeared. 

The rest of the family sat for dinner and waited for the other man to return. Nicky and Maria spoke in softened earth kingdom dialect together, of a different variety to the twin’s. Nicky’s mother tucked a curl behind his ear, but retreated when Luther returned. The man settled and served himself. 

They ate in frigid silence.

“Who was it?” Nicky asked towards the end of the meal. 

“Andrew’s old friend, Drake.” Luther finished his plate and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Was very pleased to hear that they’ll be making amends with one another. I was never sure why they’d left on such bad terms.”

All four of the younger men froze. They knew exactly who Drake was: A criminal, who was imprisoned for life for blood-bending and needless violence. Neil was first up from the table, with Aaron right beside him: They ran out of the Hemmick’s small ranch-style cottage and sprinted across the garden. There was a small cabin, out by the lake. 

Nicky let out a strangled gasp at the scene. 

Andrew, face-down on the small straw mattress, with only his shirt on. His arms and neck were contorted with blood bending and he was laughing maniacally, despite his extreme position and obvious bodily violation. 

Aaron was quick to act, whacking the older man across the head with a rock. Neil yanked Andrew out from underneath where the man collapsed atop of him, covering him with a sheet. 

“Oh, dear.” Andrew whispered gleefully. “Oh, isn’t this just fun. Isn’t it, Neil? Take my sheaths off. Shouldn’t have weapons, no. Shouldn’t have metal. Too volatile, they say. Every time. Every time, Neil. Have I taught you metal-bending yet? It’s well over-due. Take the sheaths off.”

Neil took off his sheaths with shaking hands and hid them under the mattress.

Later, he would retrieve them. Later, he would stand by Kevin’s side as Andrew was taken away to his rehabilitation centre, and Kevin would whisper: “I knew about Andrew’s role in the Equalist movement, but I knew nothing about this.”

No one knew. That was the point of those paper-thin scars underneath Andrew’s shields; For no one to know. 

Neil simply closed his eyes.

*

“Wasn’t it touching, such a fondness between the two of them?” Riko whispered. “Drake took such good care of Andrew when he was blind and angry at the world. They headed the anti-bending revolution together when Andrew was younger.”

“Drake took advantage of him.” Neil spat. “Of him and his entire audience. He was a bender, fooling them into following him.” 

“And yet Andrew let him have his ways.” Riko scoffed. “Just like you let Andrew.”

*

_Early January_

Neil breathed out, pressing the knuckles of his fists together as he folded his legs. The birds always sung in the early mornings, even in Winter: Neil had missed that from his time in the Earth Kingdom. The Tower was in the middle of the city and made him feel a little disconnected, despite being surrounded by people constantly.

With Allison safely sworn in as president, the Foxes had retired to Kevin’s old stomping ground rather than the Tower: Air Temple island. Neil liked how it was easy to protect but also easily escaped. It’d given him a peace of mind he hadn’t known in years. 

_Growing too comfortable,_ his mother reminded him. He pursed his lips and tried to remove himself from thought. He knew it worked when he felt air currents gather him from underneath, lifting himself up. Kevin’s training had been working.

He heard footsteps but relaxed as they drew closer. He knew who it was. 

“Quit your levitating bullshit.” Andrew muttered, sitting next to him. 

Neil said nothing, letting the corner of his lips curl upwards. 

Andrew was content with the quiet for about five minutes, before punching the ground by his knee and sending a spike of rock to knock Neil off balance. 

Neil laughed, sitting upright once more. He looked up at Andrew. “I never thanked you. For calming me down.”

“I did nothing.” Andrew answered. “You calmed yourself down.”

Neil hummed. “Whatever you say.” He then looked out to the sunrise. “Palmetto is restored.”

“You’re leaving.” Andrew guessed. 

“When we rescued Thea, I told you I didn’t think I had a choice.” He let himself lay back onto the ground, looking up at the gradients between the blues, purples and oranges in the sky. “I was wrong. I could have left if I wanted to.” He met Andrew’s eyes. “ _Now_ I don’t have a choice. The world knows the Avatar exists, and whilst we put a hiccup in Ichirou’s plans, its far from over. It’ll kill me,” Neil acknowledged. “But running will hurt more.”

Andrew sighed gently. “You talk too much.”

Neil closed his eyes. “You don’t mind.” 

“I hate everything about you.”

“I’m aware.”

“When did I let you become such a problem?”

“I didn’t think you cared enough to make me a problem.” He smiled loosely, tilting his head to the side.

“I wish I could kill you.” He said, the blatant truth. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t take you to bed.” 

Neil was glad Andrew had knocked him off his kilter before: If he’d still been floating, he would have flailed and collapsed. As it was, it felt like the ground has suddenly vanished beneath his body, and he was falling. He cracked open a single eye. “Oh?” 

“Nothing will come of it.” Andrew said, with a slight hint of ferociousness in his tone. An anger, so quiet but so self-destructive that it had burrowed its way deep into Andrew’s chest. 

“Why not?” Neil clenched his fists in an effort to stabilise his merry-go-round brain. Despite the bite of his nails against his palm, he still felt listless.

“I’m not stupid.” Andrew said, getting to his feet. “I know when something is futile.”

With that he was gone. His absence left something hollow in Neil’s chest that he’d never felt before. Carefully, he brushed his fingers over where his heart was thudding within his chest. Where Ichirou’s flame had torn through Seth’s body. 

Neil tried to return to his meditation. It was useless.

*

Neil didn’t want to think about Andrew. Riko had taken out his anger and insecurities on the Foxes, blaming Kevin for the complete eradication of the air-benders, releasing the Equalist leader Drake from prison and sending him after Andrew, his old victim, buying off a doctor at the rehabilitation centre in the Earth Kingdom to send Andrew to the breaking point. He’d tipped over the edge and killed the man. Neil’d hoped no one knew, but they were never that lucky. 

“You’re wasting your breath.” Neil muttered. “He never cared about me anyway.”

*  
_Early March_

He let Neil take his weight through an arm around his waist: They leapt from rock to rock until they’d made it up to the top of the cliff. When Neil had let go—which was as soon as they were safe from falling—he saw that Andrew had his eyes almost closed, his hand holding a small knife as he spun it between his fingers. 

“Andrew?” 

“Don’t like heights.” He grunted out, turning away from the cliff-edge to collect himself. Neil gave him the time he needed: They weren’t in a rush. It was just scouting for any potential Fire Nation encampments near Palmetto city. 

Neil thought maybe he could distract the earth-bender instead. “What are you doing constantly atop of Air Temple Island?”

Andrew thought about it for a moment, before saying “Feeling.”

Neil said nothing, eyes scanning the expansive tree-tops. It was green as far as the eye could see, no smoke plumage, no gaps aside from marked lakes. If there were any soldiers, they were far and few between. 

“Yes or no?” Andrew asked in the harsh dialect of his home province. Neil bowed his head slightly with a small smile. 

“Of course.”

Andrew hated Neil’s blanket permissions, but went ahead with the kiss all the same: They found themselves sliding down the sandstone cliff face. Andrew could always sense Neil’s movements even if he couldn’t see them, but he kept as still as he could regardless.

Productivity was beyond Neil when he felt Andrew’s lips across his jaw, on his neck, over the aching gap in his chest. He threw his head back and made sure to keep his hands away. 

Andrew brought them to his hair. Neil pulled back to rest their noses together, fingers curling easily into the blond locks. Those soulful eyes looked right at him, even though he knew Andrew could see nothing. The thin film of gold covering his irises glimmered in the afternoon sun. “What if I lose control—“

“I’ll know.” Andrew said, quietening him in the most effective method possible. Clothes were shed, and sweat was shared, and whilst Kevin might have scathed him for his lack of productivity or worthwhile observations, Neil considered it an afternoon well spent. 

*

Andrew didn’t care about Neil, and Neil couldn’t care about Andrew. It was the only way it could have been.  
Riko was coming up empty handed. Whatever information he was trying to solicit from Neil, he wasn’t getting. The beatings became more brutal: Riko would heal his wounds half-way, then tear them open again: He’d blood bend till the capillaries in his skin broke and blood seeped from his follicles and pores. He starved Neil and then force-fed him until he was sick. 

Worst of all was the poison. 

Oh, fuck. The _poison_. 

It was dripped onto his forehead and caused a searing pain, weighing him down like his blood was laden with lead. It was soon enough that Neil felt delirious and faint, his body contorted into strange shapes as it grew out of his control and decayed a little further with each moment. 

He was too exhausted to speak. He was barely coherent enough to see, or hear, or eat the food presented to him or even go to the bathroom. 

He knew when it was Riko administering the poison, and when it was Jean, the only lackey who went around unmasked: Jean dripped a salve and pretended it was poison, momentarily soothing Neil’s pain, whilst Riko smeared the foul toxins all over Neil’s skin. 

He was going to die in here

*

_Early March_

“Now that Palmetto is ours again,” Dan rose up her glass. “I’d like to propose a toast. To us. And to Neil.”

Neil curled his shoulders further inwards, wanting to be out of everyone’s gaze. Wanting to hide away. 

“With President Reynolds rightfully restored to her position, Palmetto will regrow and rebuild with technology and infrastructure more innovative than ever before. Between the cracks grow the most resilient of daisies, and that -“ Dan paused once more to nod at Neil. “Is what defines us.”

There were cheers: Matt grinned at him from across the table, which was ladened with food. Neil wasn’t hungry, rather: he was restless. It wasn’t like a Moriyama to give in and retreat. Somewhere, somehow, there would be retaliation, and Neil needed to be prepared. 

For all he knew, his father was waiting by the doorstep, ready to snatch him and do away with him as he pleased. He would be furious. His son, the Avatar. His son, the traitor. 

Andrew’s chin rose up, looking Neil in the eye. Perhaps he could sense Neil’s irritation. Perhaps he felt similarly: Celebrating like this was trivial when far worse threats were upon the horizon. 

A furrow developed between Andrew’s brows, fists curled tightly around his cutlery. There was laughter and cheering as Allison served more wine and as Matt threw grapes into Nicky’s open mouth. 

“What is it?” Neil asked. Andrew simply shook his head. “Andrew?”

“Too loud. Can’t hear properly—“ He grit his teeth and bashed his hands onto the table. 

Everyone grew silent and Neil looked around: Everyone’s wrists, including his own, were cemented to the tabletop with the metal cutlery. 

Andrew didn’t open his eyes, opting instead for standing and moving to place his hands on the wall. When he opened them, everyone’s temporary handcuffs melted back into somewhat misshapen forks. 

“There’s someone in the building. Underneath it.” Andrew looked at Wymack. “They aren’t familiar.” 

“Everyone, _out!”_ Wymack barked. 

The building shook with the first explosion: the sirens began to wail. 

“Andrew,” Neil called. The man still had his hands to the wall, where fissures had begun to appear and dust began to flurry from the ceiling. “We need to leave.”

“I can hold the building.” He said, teeth grinding loud enough that Neil heard it over the continuous implosions beneath them. “Trap them inside. If you helped.”

If Neil could get into the Avatar state. “I can’t just turn it on, Andrew. You know this. We need to leave and make sure everyone gets out of the building.” 

“Neil!” Matt yelled. “Where are you? Are you alright?”

“Fine, just a minute!” Neil called back. “We’ll be right behind you!”

“I can’t—see.” Andrew grit out. He hated admitting weakness, Neil could tell. “Too much disturbance. I don’t know where I am, and everything’s crumbling beneath my feet.”

Neil bowed his head and offered his hand: “Yes or no?”

“I hate you.” He managed, grabbing Neil by the wrist. “Lift me off the ground with your stupid air-bending and I’ll kill you.” 

“Sure,” Neil said wryly, leading Andrew out into the corridor. Matt must have headed Neil’s advice and gone ahead of him. The building was quickly filling with smoke and flames: Neil created a safe bubble and guided him and Neil out of the building. More than once he and Andrew’d had to stop and move debris and collapsed columns, but Aaron and Abby were on hand when they’d escaped. 

Nicky rushed forward. “What _took_ you so long! I was worried sick!”

“Shut up, Nicky.” Andrew and Aaron groused simultaneously. Neil found it mildly entertaining. 

“Neil!” Dan yelped, panicked. “Where’s Matt? He went in after you!”

A large crowd had gathered to watch the Foxes’ Tower go up in flames. Consequentially, the same large crowd watched Neil run back inside a burning building. 

“Matt!” He propelled through rings of burned ceilings and exploded rubble. “Matt, where are you?” The fire was starved, licking at Neil’s skin with little effect. He kept it away from him with ease, but the heat was a little more intolerable.

A weak voice could almost be missed under the roar of the fire, but Neil followed it all the way onto the fourth floor. There he found Matt, stuck under the collapse of a wooden beam. It’d dug its way into Matt’s leg and blood seeped from the wound. 

The man looked at Neil, half delirious with pain and smoke inhaletion. “What are you doing in here? Get out of here!” 

Neil just shook his head and worked at removing the wood, lifting it and blasting it with air and carving away at it with fire or crumbling it with earth, until Matt was free. They hobbled to the closest hole in the wall, leading to a dark alleyway. 

“Hold onto me.” Neil warned. Matt clutched like a clingy child, and Neil gently lowered them to the ground. It was there that they collapsed together, basking in the cool of the cobbled street and watching as the building began to decimate itself. Smoke belched from every available orifice, and the noise was absolutely deafening. 

“Neil,” Matt croaked. “You crazy fucker.” 

He was leaning on Neil, covered in bruises and scratches and scathing, blistering burns. Neil had scoured the whole place for him: He wouldn’t let another Fox die on his watch. Not when he owed Dan for accepting him despite his lies. Not when he owed Matt for his kindness and willingness to rehabilitate Neil into the real world.  
They dragged themselves into an opposing alleyway, where the glow of the Tower’s fire licked across Matt’s cheekbones, across the furrow in his brow. Neil sat him down gently before uncapping the water flask. He spread it over Matt’s skin, stitching up wounds and soothing burns. 

“Still can’t—“ Matt winced. “I still can’t, you know. Get over the fact you’re the Avatar.”

“Yeah, well.” Neil muttered, weaving the water around Matt’s sprained wrist. “It’s not like I knew any better a few months ago.” 

“Insane.” Matt whispered reverently. 

“How’s it feeling?” Neil asked. “I’m not a good healer.”

“It’s good enough to last me till we find Abby.” Matt smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Avatar Neil.”

“Stop it.” Neil muttered, mildly flustered. “I’m still just Neil.”

“I know.” Matt grinned. “Should we go find the others?”

“I’m afraid that won’t be necessary,” Came a new voice. Neil’s body went stiff with anger and fear—but mostly anger—when he turned and recognised the malicious smile and Fire Nation garb of nobility and power. 

“Moriyama,” Matt stood, unsteady on his feet. “You’re not welcome here. Leave.” 

Riko’s smile widened. “Oh, if only that were your decision, Matthew Boyd.” He lifted his hand. 

Neil had witnessed how blood-bending had rendered one of the most powerful earth-benders to uselessness, but he'd never conceivably thought about the pain. The _pain_. It was like fire in his veins, thirsting and grappling and clawing through his body. 

Neil knew that blood-benders were frightfully overpowered, and he’d been right. Riko’s hand curled into a fist, and Neil felt his neck swell, enough that his vision began to flicker and dissipate. 

He heard Matt calling his name weakly, most likely being subject to the same torture to keep him complacent. It wasn’t long before his body slumped, rendered fully unconscious. 

*

The door opened again, and he couldn’t find it in him to lift his head. It was Riko, with taunts of his worthlessness, Riko with his poison, Riko with his sadistic grin. 

His body awoken and flickered into the Avatar state, a futile attempt to save Neil when Neil’s true enemy was scouring him from the inside out. 

“Abram,” Came a low voice. It wasn’t soft, and it wasn’t gentle, but the relief that it brought was second to none. “Neil, listen to me. We’re leaving.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Another voice demanded. 

“He’s poisoned.” Came a horrified whisper. “I—it’s tearing him to pieces. Andrew, I need to heal him.” 

Neil’s wrists were released from the cuffs, and he felt his body being laid on the ground. 

“We don’t have much time. You can’t go any faster?”

“Someone’s coming—“

“So go take care of it!” Andrew snapped. 

Neil shuddered, bile rising to his throat. Whatever was being done to him was doing nothing, merely pushing the poison to unsullied areas of muscle and bone. The voice above him let out a strange gasp of frustration and anger. “Andrew,”

“What.”

“It’s metallic poison. You need to get it out. You’re the only one who can.” 

Neil’s head lolled as he began losing sensation in his fingertips. He was dreaming. Or he was already dead. This was what death felt like. It was about time. 

A pained yell was torn from his lungs as the poison was drawn out from his skin. It burned like nothing else: His entire body was covered in small needles and razors as he felt the metal gravitating away from his arteries, his lungs, his heart and brain. Left gasping and spasming, the poison was finally gone. 

His eyes flew open. 

“Time’s up!” Someone crowed. “We need to get out, now!”

Neil was hauled up: His feet were swollen from lack of use and he could barely walk, but he was supported around the waist, his arm thrown over his shoulder. His _shoulder._

“Andrew,” Neil whispered. 

Andrew told him to shut up as they limped away. 

“You shouldn’t have come here.” Came a familiar voice. 

Neil looked up to see Jean in the corner. 

Jean gazed at Kevin and Andrew, where they were supporting Neil. “The two of you, especially.”

“Your concern has been duly noted and discarded.” Andrew muttered. “Get out of the way.”

“Neil, you should know what Riko was attempting, and why.” Jean spoke in a rushed whisper. “He was trying to lure you into the Avatar state, so he could kill you and end the cycle permanently. His brother wants you out of the way when he moves to conquer the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes: They’ve decided to go for Palmetto city last.”

“Jean, come with us.” Kevin insisted. “Thea misses you. _I_ miss you.”

He shook his head. “The time is not right. Good luck, Foxes.”

With that, he was gone. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Andrew grunted.

Neil was too weak to nod. With a secure arm around his waist, he dragged himself to his unprecedented freedom.  
There was still so much to overcome, but in that moment, Andrew’s solid support was enough. 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus what a mess
> 
> chapter 2 and neil's already been kidnapped and rescued lmao im great at this whole 'writing' thing


End file.
